As much as I would like to apologies for my absence on these here digital pages and give a very valid excuse as to why I have not had time to write, I’m afraid I have no reasons other than the truth. My liver and lungs went on a massive binge session together about 2 weeks ago, obviously had a big falling out over something and I now find myself at the end of what has been an extremely interesting fortnight.
Liver: Let’s go out a have a drink.
Lungs: Okay, but only one and we’re not playing “flirt with the smoker”
Liver: Boring… why do you always have to be such a kill joy.
Lungs: Because if I’m not working neither are you.
Liver: Right, fair enough.
Needless to say, they both embraced my new found singledom with the fervour and energy of a small child on chocolate, proceeded to party like the rock stars they were in their previous lives and leave the rest of my body helpless and without the ability to move. Cue 1 week on the couch, Christian Troy’s devilishly handsome derrière and my lungs and liver never to be seen together again.
Thankfully, I am officially on the mend, 1 lung has sheepishly returned with a whisper of when I may expect the other, however I daresay he is still seeking asylum somewhere very far away from my liver. I am unfortunately back in the world of reality which means doing real work things like TPS reports and hanging around the water cooler, which at this stage pales in comparison to stalkbook and pretending to work while having sumo wrestlers hanging off your eyelids!
But alas, It’s Monday Peeps, the fight resumes with renewed vigour and I promise, more updates, less hangover induced injuries.
conversations with a 2.5 year old
8 years ago
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